


Please Consider

by TypingMonkey (purty64)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast, The Second Citadel - Fandom
Genre: Amaryllis (mentioned), Gen, Meltdown POV, Oh also, Sir Marc (mentioned), Sir Marc/Sir Angelo (implied), So be wary of that, like I literally pulled a lot of the phrasing from how I talk when I am. not at my best!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23796610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purty64/pseuds/TypingMonkey
Summary: please consider:you've left the (a?) party to escape the noise-lights-people, and you're hiding from it all in a dark corner.and then someone comes to check on you.
Relationships: Sir Talfryn & Sir Angelo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Please Consider

consider the following:

you're hiding in the corner of your best-friend-sisters hut, hiding from- well. basically everything. sounds. grass. light.

it's dark, in here. you like it that way.

consider this: someone opens the door. you flinch, because of _course_ you would, you came here to _hide_ from the light-noise-movement- _people_ and now it's _here_ and where do you go from here? under the bed?

_(you tried there earlier, but she keeps her bed too close to the ground to get under. unfortunate; the closeness probably would have helped)_

so you flinch, and crush yourself closer to the wall, trying to keep the sliver of lamplight from brushing against your skin-clothing. the door closes. which is good, you'd think, you _would_ think, except that now someone is here with you. they'll want to talk to move or make noise and light and-

you'd rather not.

so you crush yourself closer to the walls around you, to hide-away to keep away to _leave_ \- but. they don't.

consider: if it was your brother's (friend-boyfriend-datemate-partner-friend?-friend?-friend?). if he didn't turn on the lights, lit no candles, didn't fumble in the dark for the matches. you can hear everyone else outside, filtering through the walls, but he is silent.

you don't know him well. you know he is- kind, you think. he is _kind_. he is well meaning. he is confused, like you, but he is _loud_ , and it hurts. you avoid him.

Marc has said that you have "so much in common!" he's said that he likes rocks, like you, and talks strange, like you, but he likes people ~~_is liked by people_~~. so you avoid him.

and he is loud.

but, consider: he is not loud, not now. you can hear his footsteps, soft on the dirt floor of the hut, coming closer. they're quiet.

_Friend Talfryn?_

he is _quiet_ , and it's strange. but he's quiet. you relax.

_Ah, there you are!_ and he hesitates, isn't that odd; you're not sure you've ever heard him do that. _Are you- feeling alright?_ and there's an emphasis there, but- well. you've never been sure what those mean. not really. not really.

you want to say something like- but that's the problem, isn't it. you don't know. what words-? which ones?

it doesn't matter of course; you wouldn't be able to force them out even if you had them.

_I see_ he says, because he's not really whispering (there's none of that _harshness_ , the hissing s's) and he isn't really murmuring (to enunciated for that), but he's- speaking. softly.

he sits leaning against the cabinet you're half hiding behind. you hear his head _thunk_ against the wood, rattling the doors. making you flinch.

making… him, flinch. _Apologies, friend Talfryn_ , he says, still soft, still quiet, _I did not mean to make such noise._

and you think he means it.

he doesn't speak for the longest time, simply… sitting, head against the cabinet and one leg up and arm resting across it. you can see his outstretched foot from the crevice you've wedged yourself into. and you relax.

consider: it's been a few hours. maybe. the outside has become quieter, less…. less. and he hasn't said a word that entire time. moved. but carefully. so as not to rattle the cabinet again, presumably.

_I-_ is as far as you get before the words close your throat and _stick_ to your lungs and you've got them in hand now but you'd have to _rip_ them out if you wanted them said, you just know it-

_Friend Talfryn?_ and he shifts you can hear it and you can feel the tear-prick in your eyes and you can't cry _now_ not _now_ not now not now not

_Did you- want to say something?_

_yes but no and can I? can I? can I?_

_… I would say so, yes._

_I can? I can speak talk? talk? talk? talk?_

and there's a beat before _I can hear you_ and he's still so _gentle_ and that might be the only thing letting the words out

_it's- it's- too much too loud too hard to hard_

_What is?_

_everything! everything! other, other- other!_

_Other… people?_

_yes_

_… I see._ and there's a quiet still moment where you're just gulping air and trying to breathe past the words stuck in your throat until _Is there anything you want me to do?_ and the words leave again, dry up like water in a shallow stream when the sun beats down, stop like clouds when they hit a mountain range. maybe you move your foot, so that it brushes against his leg and it's _excruciating_ so you jerk it back again. leave it in sight. maybe he takes his hand and-- telegraphing his motions, making sure you've seen and could draw away if you so chose-- rests it on your leg. gently, but firmly. so that it doesn't hurt.

you curl a little tighter, hugging yourself, but leave your foot where it is.

he probably gives good hugs _(you know he does, remember? in the lizard lords castle-house-mother. you remember.)_

consider dragging yourself from the crack you've wedged yourself into, ~~Angelo~~ quickly moving his hand away when your leg moves but not leaving. consider removing yourself from the ~~safety~~ of the wall, the enclosure you've built for yourself, levering yourself out and grasping.

you remembered correctly. he does give good hugs.

**Author's Note:**

> self care is inflicting your own neuroses upon unsuspecting favorite characters


End file.
